Billy's Lines Of Gibberish

Diego Maradona illegally sticks the ball with his left hand in the Argentina vs. England 1986 FIFA World Cup quarter final. Maradona was not penalised for the cheat, called The Hand of God Goal. He was later awarded the golden ball for best player in the tournament.

I'd certainly rather write about what I love than about what I dislike, but it will not be possible today because, according to the Blogging by Numbers constraint, this blog has to deal with number eleven…. From Brazil to England, from France to Korea, this number immediately conjures up one thing only: football, because eleven is the number of players in a team.

When I was a child, I would play football in the playground during the breaks, as every boy does. It is just normal that children play. Later, I played handball (as a goalkeeper, my thumbs remember it well), then rugby that I loved. Sport as a recreational activity is great thing. Playing in teams is an experience besides the sport itself: it has you learn to socialize, and respect people. Theoretically.

Professional football appears to be just the opposite of this theory. Granted, beautiful play may happen. Dribbles by Zinedine Zidane were pure art sometimes. Yet Zidane was also the man who head butted an Italian player, Marco Materazzi, in the final of the 2006 FIFA World Cup (one of my first blogs dealt with it), probably as an over-reaction to racist callings.

In my eyes, this event summed up professional football: it includes manoeuvre and pretension, racism, insults, and violence. The hidden part of the iceberg is of the same kind: doping, cheats, refereeing 'errors' and corruption, and that's not all.

Such flaws are inherent to many professional sports nowadays, not only football. The reason is always the same: money. It's especially obvious in football though, because it is by far the most popular sport in the world.

[BbN #11]

Famous football players are millionaires who usually grew up in poverty. Their success makes young poor people dream of a better future. Also, people don't think of economical issues when they look at a match.

Nothing new here. 'Panem et Circenses', the Roman emperors would already say, 2000 years ago, about what a leader should provide to the masses to have them remain quiet: bread and games.

Le Maillot Jaune

It is in the very nature of sport that competitors do as much as they can to win. For an athlete though, searching for the first place should not apply to the results of the competition only, but dignity, human excellence, and fair-play as well.

In other words, 'being the first at any price' is not defensible. There's a gap between being the first, thanks to your efforts, perseverance and biological aptitudes, and winning because you cheated.

Many people think that 'the end justifies the means' though. According to this logic, being the first is not the main goal in itself. It is a way to get honours, please a government, make money, and have many other people around make money also.

When I was a child, the Tour de France punctuated July. I would spent hours watching it on TV. I undoubtedly learned a lot of French geography by writing down every stage, with distances, intermediate towns, passes to get over, etc. I would read every day in the local newspaper about the day's winner and the jersey holders: the white, spotted, green, and of course, yellow jersey — Le Maillot Jaune.

Tom Simpson Mont Ventoux, July 13, 1967

And then... on July 13, 1967, British cyclist Tom Simpson died climbing Mont Ventoux. Millions people saw it live on TV. I did. "Heat exhaustion" they say. That's right, blame the heat... Even the child I was at the time understood it could not be related to heat only. We heard later that Simpson's autopsy found amphetamines and alcohol in his blood. Police also discovered amphetamine tablets in the pocket of his jersey and in a team support car.

As year passed, we heard of steroids, androgens, the 'pot belge', erythropoietin, and so on. We learned that, besides training, willpower, capacity for overcoming pain, that are still necessary in a crazy competition that aims at putting back the limits of human resistance to pain and effort, doping substances were and are still essential.

Richard Virenque, Marco Pantani, Jan Ullrich, Bjarne Riis, Floyd Landis… and dozens other 'champions'. Dozens of cheats and liars who had sworn for years they were 'clean', until they were convicted of doping, and then cried and apologized. Many cyclists have not been caught yet, or have miraculously been put in the clear, scientifically guilty but not guilty on juridical grounds… What a farce.

Anyway. A lot of people still love the Tour de France… people outside France especially. Among the people who watch Le Tour on the French roads every year in July, there are a lot of fans from all over the world, bikers or not, who come to France especially to see it. Good for them.

Yet, as for me and millions of French people, I don't follow the Tour de France any more. I watch the News of the Tour sometimes though. Not because I want to hear about who won the stage or who leads the race. Only, I am a little interested in hearing which cheats will be unmasked this time.

The Saltire flag of Scotland (The Highlander, a Scottish Pub in Paris)

I arrived in Scotland two days ago, for a 9-day vacation trip in the country of William Wallace and Sean Connery. News from the Castles and Highlands to come then, and from Nessie also perhaps, who knows?

Scotland is not an independent country anymore, therefore it does not have a national anthem. Yet a few songs are used instead, that convey Scottish will to differentiate themselves from the rest of Great Britain.

It is especially the case of Flower of Scotland, the beautiful, patriotic song by The Corries. Resolutely directed at the English, the song celebrates Robert the Bruce's victory against the troops of King Edward II at Bannockburn in 1314.

O Flower of Scotland When we sill see Your like again That fought and died for, Your wee bit Hill and Glen And stood against him, Proud Edward's army And sent him homeward Tae think again.

In particular, Scots break into Flower of Scotland at the Highland Games — sometimes — and before a match by the Scottish national rugby team — always.

Edinburgh, 17 March 1990. Scotland previously defeated Wales, Ireland and France in the Five Nations Championship. Today, in Murrayfield Stadium, the last match in this championship is about to start, against the auld enemy and hot favourite, England, undefeated also. Victory in the Championship, and a Grand Slam, are at stake.

Players are on the field. Five minutes ago, while the English team ran into the Stadium as usual, David Sole, who captains the Scots, deliberately walked his men onto the pitch, in a slow, belligerent march, to deafening cheering of the home crowd.

English against Scots. Hundred years of conflicting history. Furthermore, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher has experimented the Community Charge (aka Poll Tax) for one year in Scotland only, leading to massive disobedience, and riots to come shortly in the whole country.

Scotland vs England — 17 March 1990

Both teams are lined up in front of the VIP stand. Fifteen English players bravely sing God Save the Queen as strong as they can, while TV cameras slowly pass in review the staring faces of every Scot player fixed in a provocative silence. For the first time in their history, they don't sing the anthem.

Then, David Sole turns his head toward the musicians, and bagpipes start playing, while the Scottish team and whole home crowd — 50,000 souls — all together launch with fire into Flower of Scotland.

Needless to stay, Scots won the match and the Grand Slam. On that day, they just could not lose.

So, 2006 football world cup is finished now. The final ended in a France 1 - 1 Italy draw and Italy won the championship after a penalty kick shootout. It was the last match of Zinedine Zidane, one among the best football players ever. Too bad his last appearance in a stadium has been stained with bad behavior: headbutting Marco Materazzi in the chest was not an error, it was a shame. Granted, he over-reacted to (most likely racist) callings from that guy but, as a professional, he should not give such an "example" to the million young people who were looking at him and admire him all over the world. One will say: he is a man after all. Well, sure, but manners maketh man.

The very notion of racist calling against 'Zizou', as he is usually called, is interesting though. It recalled me what I have been told several times about him lately, as a Frenchman myself, from people with Arabic and/or Muslim culture I was chatting with.

They frequently said:
— You are probably very proud of ZZ as a Frenchman, aren't you? In my country, we are very proud of him, since he is an Arab/a Muslim.

The first time I was told this, I was amazed: Zidane is a Frenchman for sure, and a famous one, but I had never thought of him as being Muslim and/or Arab. This might appear strange in countries where communautarism is normal view of society but, in the French traditional secular way, religions and ethnic origins are not considered noteworthy features, but among far rightists.

A French President or Prime Minister would never mention God(s) in a speech, for instance. Asking someone you are not very close to, what religion he practices might be considered indicative of intolerant tendencies. In secular France, it is forbidden by the Law to ask about ethnicity, religion, or sexual preferences in any official interview, even more to register it. The very notion of "human races", which is not a biological, but segregational criterion, is not used, and French black people are not called 'African French'... but Frenchmen.

Zidane was born and raised in Marseilles, a big city in Southern France, on the Mediterranean coast. He speaks French with typical Marseilles' lilting accent, like characters in Marcel Pagnol and Robert Guédiguian's movies. His parents were born in Algeria, that was a French "province" at that time — a colony actually. Smaïl Zidane, his father, came to metropolitan France in 1952, ten years before the country became independent, and he remained here thereafter. Briefly said, Zidane family is a French family with Algerian roots. Like Canada, Australia or the USA, France has always been a land of immigration, with people coming from Italy, Poland, Armenia, Hungary, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, etc. Whatever their roots, they are now Frenchmen.

— Well, OK, he is a Frenchman actually but he is an Arab Frenchman. I am proud of him because he is an Arab, like me.

Hmmm... no, sorry, again, Zidane is not an Arab. His family was originating from an Algerian village called Boukhelifa, near Béjaïa, in Kabylie. His ancestors and family were not Arabs but Kabyles. People in Algeria are not all Arabs. There are about ten million Kabyles also, whose ancestors had been living there for long time when the land was settled by Arabs. Kabyles are part of Berber people, remembered for their insubordination to the power of Roman Empire, two millenaries ago. They speak the Kabyle variety of Berber (Tamazight language). As Zidane himself, Kabyles often have light skin, hair and eye colour.

— It is interesting, I did not know there were not only Arabs in Algeria. So, OK, Zidane is a Frenchman with Kabyle ancestry. I will support him anyway, because I like him and he is a Muslim, as I am.

Yes, Zinedine Zidane is a Frenchman with Kabyle roots, as Édith Piaf and Isabelle Adjani, and many others. As for being a muslim or not, I just did not know before chat friends told me so. He could be indeed, since his family was originating from a place where main religion is Sunni Islam, and Zinedine and Yazid (his other name) are Muslim names. Does it mean he is a Muslim? Not more than me bearing a Christian name necessarily means I am a Christian myself, after all. Checking on the Internet, I found that he answered a couple of time to journalists that he has Muslim culture but does not practice. Who cares anyway, this is individual matter only.